


Driving to the Breaking Point

by Stujet9rainshine



Series: We are Andersons After All [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempted Suicide, Autistic Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Car Accidents, Character Death, Child Abuse, Connor & CyberLife Tower Connor | RK800-60 & Upgraded Connor | RK900 are Siblings, Connor & CyberLife Tower Connor | RK800-60 are Twins, Connor is 16, Conrad is 16, Gen, Hiding Injuries, Homophobia, Hospitals, Human Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Human CyberLife Tower Connor | RK800-60, Human Upgraded Connor | RK900, Nines is 12, Pre-Canon, Role Reversal, reverse au, this is very angsty, vehicular homicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-11-04 00:46:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17888315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stujet9rainshine/pseuds/Stujet9rainshine
Summary: It was September 10, 2022. Connor was sixteen and he was supposed to be learning how to drive. But instead, he hit his breaking point.





	Driving to the Breaking Point

**Author's Note:**

> Mind the tags!  
> Background for my Reverse!AU series! The goal is to have a three-part series of memories about their mom. One from Conrad, one from Connor, and one for Nines.
> 
> Songs I recommend for this fic: [Taken for a Ride | Tally Hall](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nHjaNDGgYEA), [Numb | Linkin Park](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kXYiU_JCYtU), and [The Mistake | AM Taxi](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bMHNi_p4xp8)

The weather was nice out for a September afternoon. Unfortunately for Connor he wasn’t in the position to be excited about it. His mother was taking him out to practice driving today and, like most days, they were not on the best of terms. He had to admit, this time it may have been reasonable for her to be upset. But he was currently looking into the bathroom mirror poking at a new black eye. Once again avidly rethinking his self-proclaimed justification for her rage. There was rarely a reason for her anger, but no reason would ever make what she did okay. That was something he had to tell himself quite frequently. But _boy,_ this kind of thing was really getting old.

Connor sighed as he thought about why he was still putting up with all of this.

A few moments later there was a quiet knock on the bathroom door that caused Connor to jump.

_"Connor?"_ The soft voice of his twin, Conrad, came from the other side, "Is it cool if I come in?"

There was the reason Connor put up with this hell. His brothers. They put up with this together.

Connor glanced down at the makeup he had brought down from their room. He wouldn’t mind the company. Not to mention, this would be far from the first time they had hidden in the bathroom together while one or both of them licked their wounds.

"Yeah," Connor mumbled, as he pulled the door open.

Conrad stepped in and softly closed the door behind him. His demeanor was soft, given he had witnessed the confrontation between Connor and their mom. His soft expression quickly dropped into a frowned as he noted the new shiner and the makeup on the counter. His combination of expressions would best be described as tired. "She really got you good this time," he whispered. He gingerly touched under Connor’s eye. His eyes flashed briefly with rage, _“I hate this._ I hate it when she does stuff like this. I hate it that she makes us hide it from the whole goddamned world. I hate that she doesn’t make it easy to either. I hate that we can’t do anything about it.”

_"Yup,"_ Connor replied, popping the _p_ for emphasis. Then he opened the bottle of concealer and poured some onto a dirty sponge. He was used to Conrad’s long-winded rambles. It was how he dealt with things. Connor just let him talk. But he would never complain, he honestly liked hearing Conrad talk.

Conrad took the chance and jumped onto the counter, having run out of things to say.

There was a short silence between the two as Connor began the task of smearing cover-up over another mark left by his mother. Hiding away an entire secret life of abuse under something as thin as cheap makeup.

"You can't keep doing this," Conrad said softly into the quiet and tense atmosphere. He was looking down at his hands, fidgeting by threading and unthreading his fingers. Conrad wasn’t nearly as fidgety as Connor, but he definitely had his quirks.

Connor groaned and stopped his task. He felt anger roil in his stomach. He asked that question himself far too much for someone else asking him to go over well. He slammed the coverup bottle down with a dull _clink_ and then turned to look Conrad in the eyes, or close enough to count as eye contact.

"What am I supposed to do? _Die?"_ Connor bit out, "You know as well as I do that I've already tried that."

Conrad’s eyes widened, looking as shocked as if Connor had just slapped him.

Connor flinched at the harshness of his own words. That was not what needed to be said. He opened his mouth to apologize, but Conrad stopped him by raising his hand up.

Conrad wasn’t mad, not really. He was just surprised, Connor could tell that pretty easily and Connor understood his outburst, them being twins and all that.

"Connor, you know that's not what I meant," Conrad mumbled as he handed Connor the foundation powder, "I mean like, _you know,_ maybe trying not to piss her off as much as you do. She’s always going to be pissed off, but we all know from experience that she tends to be nicer to us when we aren’t testing her."

"Yeah, easier said than done," Connor frowned, but he took the powder anyway. Conrad opened his mouth to speak, but this time Connor cut him off, "Sixty, you know as well as I do that, she’s never _not_ going to be pissed at me. I'm autistic, I don’t fit her mold, I’m not that smart, and as she found out about an hour ago, _I'm gay."_

Conrad couldn't help the small, awkward laugh that escaped him, _"Well,_ truth be told, macking on a basketball player under this roof probably wasn't the best idea, either."

"Hey, I did say I wasn't all that smart," Connor returned with a laugh. Conrad was absolutely right, Connor should have gone to the other guy's house and not here. But he's a stupid, horny, 16-year-old who was asked out by one of the hottest athletes at his school. _What was he supposed to do, say **no?**_ Though after the scene his mom made, there probably wasn't going to be a second meet up.

"Fair enough, and again I don't blame you," Conrad chuckled as he patted Connor on the shoulder, "and If I'm being honest, if I swung that way, I wouldn't have said no to Darion either."

"I'm glad you understand where I'm coming from." Connor chuckled as he inspected his handy work. The bruise was no longer visible, _good._ He could barely tell there was makeup, which was also the goal.

"You know, I'm really sorry things are like this, I just can't wait until we graduate and get the fuck out of this house," Conrad mused, "I'm going to get that full ride to University of Michigan, we're going to get an apartment, and you're going to get into the police force over in Ann Arbor and we're going to take Nines to finish school over there. We just have to last two more years. _Okay, Connor?_ I know we can, we've lasted this long."

Connor felt the emotions swell in his chest. They had big dreams for three severely abused boys living in the bad side of Detroit. But their dreams were the only things keeping their little family from caving in on itself.

"Yeah, I know we can do it," Connor smiled at his twin and he received a matching smile in return. Then Connor started to pack up his makeup. Taking the time to hide what they had been doing.

There were a few beats of silence until there was banging on the door. Both boys jumped, hearts in their throats.

_"Conrad! Connor! Open this goddamned door right **now!"**_ Their mother shouted.

The brothers exchanged a look. They hid away the makeup bag. Then Conrad reached forward and hesitantly unlatched the door.

Their mother burst through the threshold, _"Fucking **finally!"**_

"Hi, Mom," Conrad muttered nervously, only to be completely ignored as she shoved past him.

"Connor are you ready to go?" She pointed a finger at him.

Connor nodded, walking towards the door. He grabbed onto Conrad’s hand briefly then he kept walking. Connor glanced back to his twin one more time and felt a dreaded sense of finality.

Once they were out of the bathroom Connor decided to speak up, "What are we doing today, Mom?" He questioned in a voice practiced and level.

"I'm going to take you driving today like we agreed to yesterday. _Can’t you remember anything_?" She bit out.

Connor kept his flinching invisible. Years of practice had made him stoic. Her harsh tone always hurt, but he couldn’t bring himself to react physically anymore. In moments like this, he felt like a machine programmed to run on autopilot.

"Sorry," was Connor's simply replied as he followed her to the garage.

Caroline Anderson was a terrifying woman. Even if she wasn't an abusive asshole, she still would have been an imposing woman. She was all of six foot three, black hair, and icy blue eyes. The type of woman you would expect to be in the military, or in a back-alley wrestling ring. But she was none of those things. She was a lawyer, specializing in immigration and family cases. And here she was raising three boys all on her own. Boys that she regularly beat the shit out of. She often said it was because she wanted them to be perfect, turn out to be fine young men.

Connor looked down at himself. So far, she'd done a shit job. All she managed to do so far was give him an eating disorder and anxiety.

“Hop in,” She barked, “I don’t even know why I’m teaching you how to drive. It’s 2022, there’s not much of a reason to anymore.”

Connor knew his mother was too old-fashioned to let her boys go without learning something as simple as driving. Conrad had already had a few lessons under his belt. That’s why they were here, so Connor could be the best he could be. Because his mother was not wrong, with the popularity and availability of self-driving cars many people were starting to opt out of teaching their kids how to drive. But not her, her kids had to be better than everyone else’s.

“I’m glad you're teaching me if that counts for anything,” Connor said as he buckled himself into the driver seat. He’d been behind the wheel of a car a few times before, being the soberest in a group of drunk boys usually meant you were driving.

“Sure, sure,” She mumbled as she handed him the keys, “Put those in the ignition and turn the key and hold it there until the engine turns over.”

Connor did as he was told, and the engine roared to life. She gave him a soft smile; one that made his chest swell with pride. It was almost a painful feeling. Then as if he was on autopilot, he started to adjust the seat and the mirrors. He noticed she even gave a small approving nod.

“Okay, are we ready to go?” Connor asked after he was completely settled.

“Yup, click that thing above your head to open the garage then press your foot down on the break as you switch into reverse.”

Connor clicked the opener and waiting until the garage stopped groaning. Then they were on their way. He closed the garage, looked both ways before backing into the road, then he threw the car into drive.

“Where to?” Connor asked as he held his breath. Trying his damned hardest not to piss her off.

“Let’s just head towards the city, best place to practice. Good job so far,” She mused as she pulled up the GPS on the car, “Just follow this.”

“Okay,” Connor muttered as he glanced at the GPS, they were heading towards a park by the river. _This was going to a be long drive,_ he thought. A silence that he hoped would last most of the drive, overtook the small cab. It was only broken by his mother’s instructions for the next ten minutes or so.

“So, are you going to tell me what the hell was going on earlier today?” His mother asked finally breaking the calm.

Connor knew this conversation was coming, but for once he hoped getting a shiner was as bad as things were going to get. No, they _just had_ to talk about it. His grip on the steering wheel tightened, turned his knuckles white.

_“Uh,”_ Connor paused, _what the fuck was he supposed to say?_ “What do you want to know?”

“Connor Bryan Anderson, don’t you dare act stupid,” She barked, _“What the hell were you thinking?”_

Connor mentally curled in on himself, she was just too loud and aggressive. His skin prickled with mild auditory overstimulation.

“I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry, Mom,” Connor whispered keeping his eyes trained on the road in front of them. Hoping that she would just drop it.

“You never think Connor. _Ever,”_ His mother drew out, clearly showing her exasperation, “When the hell were you planning on telling me about your _boyfriend?”_

“I was going to see if it was going to last first,” Connor knew he couldn’t save himself from her wrath at this point, so he might as well fall into his usual dance of half-truths. He wasn’t originally planning on telling her ever, but he didn’t want to get punched again.

“What?” His mom sneered, _“Did you expect it to?”_

Connor flinched. No, he hadn’t. He had originally just counted himself lucky to have been asked out at all. He counted himself lucky that someone found some worth in a skinny nerd, with all too pale skin, too many moles, and an overly shy demeanor.

“No, mom. I didn’t,” Connor whispered, “I just wanted to see where it would go.”

His mom let out a harsh, dry laugh.

Connor could feel his face turning red with shame and embarrassment. The extra blood flow made his black eye throb.

“I’m not stupid, I know where you wanted things to go. You wouldn’t have had that door locked if you had innocent intentions,” His mother rolled her window down a smidge as she pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

Connor buried his reaction, he wanted to flinch and hide his face in humiliation. The memory of his mother kicking down his bedroom door was going to haunt him for a while. The next seconds after the smash was him shoving Darian out his bedroom window without so much as a thank you. God, he was dreading the arrival of school on Monday.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” His mother inquired as she blew smoke in his direction. Her expression looked bored.

_“I’m sorry,”_ Connor mumbled, blinking his eyes forcing back tears.

_“That it?”_ she snorted, “Fuck, you’re such a disappointment. I’ve raised you to the best of the best, and what do I get? A shy, underachiever who apparently likes dick in his ass now.”

Connor let out an audible gasp, the pained sound filling the car. He wanted to sob, but he refused, his hands shaking with the effort. The road blurred a little in front of him.

“I love you, Mom. I’m sorry I’m not who you want me to be,” Connor steeled his nerves as he let the practiced apology tumble out past his lips.

“It wouldn’t be that hard to be, _fuck,_ just do what the fuck a normally intelligent man would do. _Oh, wait,_ you can’t even fucking do that. Because you’re too goddamned broken to be normal,” His mother’s voice was on the verge of yelling the sound too loud for the all too small space of the car.

Connor’s skin was prickling, and his brain was starting to misfire. _He hated this._

“Mom, please, could you, _please,_ not yell,” Connor asked quietly. Hoping for once she’d listen. The tears he was holding back were threating to fall with the influx of continued auditory overstimulation.

_“No!_ My yelling wouldn’t be a fucking problem if you weren’t _fucking sensitive!”_ She screamed and that was it, tears slipped down Connor’s cheeks. _Fuck,_ he angrily tried to wipe them off with one hand, unsure of how the car would handle with only hand on the wheel. But at his point, he couldn’t care less.

“Why in the _holy hell_ are you crying?” She said finally lowering her voice a few notches. She reached out and wiped roughly at his face, attempting to comfort him. Connor gave a full body flinch as she ended up roughly pushing against his shiner. She pulled her hand back.

These attempts at comfort used to give Connor some hope, but now he knew better. He spared a glance in her direction, she had her eyes narrowed as she stared at him.

“Are you wearing _makeup?”_ She asked rubbing her fingers together.

Connor glanced at her and attempted to keep his face neutral. He turned his focus back to the road, hoping she’d drop it.

She reached out and wiped at his face again, smearing the cover up there, _“You are wearing **makeup!** What the hell?”_

“I, _um,_ like it,” Connor said dumbly. She laughed loudly and Connor’s stomach lurched. He really wanted to throw up.

“Bullshit, _you’re hiding a black eye!”_ She seemed alit with righteous anger, then all at once it melted away, “Did _I_ give _that_ to you?” She asked softly as she touched his face again. She seemed genuinely concerned. It was probably because Connor and his brothers were very good at hiding the marks that she left on them. Even from her.

But for once Connor felt himself getting angry, _“Of course, **you** gave it to me._ What did else you expect to happen when you _punched me in the face?”_ Connor said his tone betraying his feelings.

**_“Excuse me?”_** She balked.

Connor steeled his nerves, he’d had enough of her. He’d had enough of everything. These last few months had been the worst by far. He got a flashback of Conrad and him carrying an almost dead and bloody Nines to the emergency room. He was done with his mother. He was feeling hysterical, he’d hit his breaking point.

_“You heard me,”_ Connor challenged softly. The look of shock that crossed his mother’s features, left a feeling of triumph in his chest. Something he hadn’t felt in a very long time.

_“What on God’s green earth gave you the right to talk to me like that?”_ She reached out and gripped his right arm in a bruising grip. “You better say you’re sorry _right the **fuck** now.”_

**“No,** I’ve already said that enough,” Connor answered. Then into the harsh silence, the GPS beeped letting them know they were close to the park by the bridge. A chilling idea sent a thrill through his whole body. There was only so many ways the scenario in his head would play out. He bypassed the exit, taking the road towards the bridge. His dark plan continuing to form behind his eyes. They weren’t ever getting out this car again.

_“Connor, fucking pull this goddamned car over right **now!”**_ She screamed as she dug her nails into Connor’s arm. She had clearly caught onto the fact that something was very, _very_ wrong.

Connor shook his head, his lips twitching in the effort not break out in a grin. He was very aware he was losing his grip on things. But adrenaline and fear were fantastic motivators for insanity. He glared in her direction, challenging her to stop him.  He took a turn sharper than necessary and started to heavily increase the speed of the vehicle, the sound of the engine protesting echoed in the cab. He didn’t even understand what his mother was screaming at him. The tears hadn’t stopped as he finally gave in to the urge to smile. He was going to make her feel just as powerless as she had made him feel every day of his life. He was in control now and he was going to use that control.

Connor looked out into the distance and thought of his brothers. He knew things were going to be fine at home. Conrad could take care of Nines just fine. The nest egg that they had been stowing away would be enough to take care of them for at least a few months. Not even counting the money that would still be coming in from Conrad’s job. He was going to save them from this hell. Two years would be too long, they wouldn’t make. Their mother was only getting worse as time passed by. He knew that if he died like this, he’d be giving his brothers the freedom they deserved to live their best lives.

“I’m going to drive us into the river,” Connor said his tone was strikingly flat. He said those words as if he was talking about the weather.

His mother gasped and horror spread on her face as she realized her son wasn’t kidding. She fumbled to unbuckle her seat belt. They were almost at the bridge when his mother made a drive at him. Connor ducked out of the way and floored the gas pedal throwing her for a loop. She tumbled to the floorboard. Spitting and cursing the whole time.

**_“Connor!_** _You need to calm down and pull over. We can talk this out_ ,” his mother pleaded, a tone he’d never heard her use before. She was terrified, and that made Connor feel better about what he was about to do.

_“It’s too late for talking,”_ He bit out, _“Plus, you know I’m **no fucking good** at talking! I’m just tired of all this bullshit! I want to die and I’m **fucking taking you with me!”**_ Connor shrieked as he pulled the car hard to right throwing the car over the divider right after the bridge started. His mother screaming was burning in his ears. 

As the free fall began, he kept his eyes open as he watched the water as the water got closer. He let out a soft sigh of acceptance and then he let his eyes slip closed. _Fucking finally,_ was Connor’s last thought before hitting the water.

 

~

 

Connor had a migraine. His head was fucking throbbing. He groaned, but the sound barely left his throat before it regressed into coughing. He sputtered as he tried to sit up. His chest was burning quickly drowning out the pain in his head. He opened his eyes, but his vision was blacked out in several places. _What the hell?_

**“He’s awake!”** Someone called out.

Connor’s brain was still playing catch up as he reached to wipe at his face, hoping to relive the itching sensation in his nose. Only to notice with a start that there was a soft plastic covering at least half his face. Then his whole world slammed back into motion as he tried to sit up. He had driven him and his mother off the bridge and into the river. He was alive. _Oh, fuck!_

_“Woah, there!_ You’re not ready to be doing that yet,” A soft voice said to him.

Connor was panicking, if he was alive, that meant his mother probably was too. His chest was contracting, and he couldn’t breathe, and his whole body was being wracked by wet coughs. His vision was going in and out, he had no idea where he was or what the fate of his brothers were.

**_“Conrad! Nines!”_** He screamed out, desperate. His voice was scratchy and barely came out above a whisper, _“She’s going to kill them! Oh, god! It’s all my fault!”_ The tears were swimming in his eyes from pain both physical and emotional.

_“Hey!_ He’s having a panic attack, get that drip started!” The first soft voice commanded.

There was a crashing noise, and Connor became aware of the fact that he was moving. There was a hand on his face and violently flinched away from it 

“Hey, hey. You’re okay. You’re safe, we got you,” The voice that came with the light touch was soothing as Connor felt his eyelids grow heavy, and then he was out like a light.

 

~

 

The next time Connor pulled himself back into conscious was much less disorientating. He was somewhere warm, and his head and chest hurt significantly less. He opened his eyes one at a time to look directly into piercing blue eyes. Connor let out a small squawk and screwed his eyes shut again.

“Hey, it’s just me,” it was Nines, “You’re safe calm down.”

Connor threw his eyes open and looked over to see his little brother was leaning on the edge of a hospital bed. Connor smiled, and he reached out and pulled him into a hug.

“Oh, thank god,” Connor whispered, holding on to Nines for dear life, “I’m so glad you’re safe.” Connor could feel Nines’ smile on his shoulder.

There was a quiet snort, and the next moment someone else joined into the hug.

“We should be saying that about you,” Conrad scolded as he tightened his arms around his brothers, “You really scared us this time.”

_“I’m sorry,”_ was all Connor could think to say. They stayed like for several minutes until Nines wiggled his way out of his older brothers’ grasps.

“Connor?” Nines asked in the stillness.

“Yeah?”

“I, _uh,_ I don’t think I'm supposed to tell you yet, but,” Nines stumbled over his words and Connor felt his eyebrows and panic rise. Nines was a very well spoken, even for a 12-year-old. He scratched the back of his head, before he continued, _“Mom’s dead.”_

Connor's eyes were saucers and he looked at Conrad for confirmation.

Conrad’s expression was tight as he gave a sharp nod. _Holy shit._

_“Oh,”_ Connor replied dumbly. He brought his hands to his face and gripped at his hair. He really did kill her. _He fucking killed his own mother._ The mix of emotions that swelled into his guts was nauseating. He felt so goddamned happy, ashamed, disgusted, and relieved.

“Connor? _You okay?”_ Conrad placed a hand of his shoulder, the motion grounding.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Connor shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, “I guess I’m in shock.”

“Yeah, the doctor said that plus you’re expressing all the basic signs; sweating, ashen skin, and rapid pulse and breathing,” Nines announced as he added his own hand to Connor’s other shoulder, “But you’re going to be okay.”

“We’re going to be okay now,” Conrad added. Filling in the unspoken truths, their mother was dead, and they were all alive and that meant things were finally going to get better. He killed his mother in a righteous suicide attempt, but he somehow survived and here he was.

“Yeah,” Connor put his hands on his brothers’. He whispered his next words, “I really thought I was going to die when I took us over the divider.” He let the truth out subtly.

His brothers showed the realizations on their faces but said nothing of it. They were alive, together, and finally free. Nothing could be done about what had happened in that car, but their futures started right there in that hospital room.


End file.
